Oakenshield's Fire (Re-write)
by Loki'sdreamer
Summary: Aragon, Gimli, Legolas and Vána (OC) are transported back in time to when Thorin and Bilbo are on their quest to retake Erebor. But as the quest takes place will fates be sealed and unsuspecting friendships be made? Thorin/OC. Rated M for violent scenes and smut in later chapters.
1. Author's Note

Authors Note:

Sorry rewriting all of the chapters so I'll delete them. I'll start posting them up once the first couple have been finished and sorry for the delay. I have final exams so updates may not be as frequent. The names of the wizards have been changed and details have been added. Sorry for the confusion.


	2. Chapter 1: The Shadowy Figure

**Hey this is a re-write, got a beta writer so something's have been changed. It still follows the same plot line but some key points have been changed like the names of my two OC wizards. Anyway enjoy and please review!**

**xxxOOOxxx**

Down in the valley, stood a dark silhouette, illuminated only by the light of the moon. As the fire burst into existence, the man's outline shifted slightly, trailing away like smoke, before reappearing as a solid man. He was Gothmog, returned from death by some divine spirit, and this time he would not fail. He would watch the elves fall, as he killed their leaders one by one. And the Istari? They had had a part in his downfall, blaming him for the death of one of their own. They were wrong to scapegoat him and they would pay.

As he placed the last seeing-stone down upon the ground, the circle was complete and the fire blazed all the more, sensing their power. He grinned, and raising his hands dramatically, incensed the fire to burn higher and higher, until the smoke blacked out the moon and the clearing darkened. Crows alighted from the mountainside and fled, screaming a warning to those nearest. He began.

"_Úcarnet nin. Lye níra ilya fir." _You wronged me. You will all die.

After a moment, the Palantíri responded perfectly, blazing with a flawless image of the fire before them, before darkening momentarily. Then, the circle lit up, as each Palantír bore a different image, stretching from Ered Luin in the east, to the Sea of Rhûn way in the West. He grinned mirthlessly. His plan was working perfectly; nothing could stop him now. Except-

"What is the meaning of this?" a voice thundered. The last voice Gothmog had ever expected to hear.

"If it isn't my old friend, Olórin, or was it Gandalf?" He sneered. "Yes, that's right. Gandalf the Grey, they call you. Mithrandir, isn't it pitiful?" Gothmog mocked, though inside, he despaired. It had been so long since they had last met and Gandalf had grown stronger and wiser in that time. Perhaps he was even strong enough to defeat him, the greatest Balrog to walk Middle Earth; especially in this weakened, human form.

"It would seem I have been sent back a second time; I have work to do. You always were a snake, Gothmog, It's a wonder you were shown mercy so many times. Even Eru himself must be regretting this. Ecthelion would turn in his grave if he knew of your return: it's a shame Saruman didn't kill you when he had the chance."

Gothmog laughed mirthlessly in answer. "Even Saruman was too fearful to kill me. Above all he craved power and he would not risk losing it for anything in our world."

"And tell me, what of you?" Gandalf countered. "If I'm not mistaken, you appear more power-hungry than Morgoth himself!"

"That's because I crave revenge, Gandalf. And I will get it. I will watch Middle- Earth burn a thousand times over, for what they did to me. I never intended for Alatar's death and they persecute me? They will all burn!"

xxxOOOxxx

A furious fight broke out between them, as Gandalf did all that he could to lessen the spell's potency. It was futile, he began to realize, as Gothmog chuckled to himself. He had the upper hand and it seemed all was lost when Gandalf had an idea. He began to mutter under his breath, choking as Gothmog placed a particularly cruel curse upon him. Soon it would be done. The last of Gothmog's strength failed him and they broke apart, panting. The spell was done and Gandalf smiled grimly as he drove Glamdring through the heart of the once fearsome Balrog, watching as he turned to smoke before his eyes. Although the fight was won, he suspected that the battle for Middle-Earth would begin once more. His only hope was that his own spell had worked.

xxxOOOxxx

Aragorn stood watching Minas Tirith, a picture of peace, as the city sprang to life below him. His stern face softened, as he turned to watch his son, Eldarion, the joy of Gondor, as he shrieked with laughter and hid behind a maidservant's skirts. A soft hand upon his shoulder disturbed his thoughts and Arwen smiled knowingly at him.

"You miss it don't you?" She spoke sadly. "All the fighting and the adventure?" Aragorn looked away. "My place is here." He answered stubbornly.

"_Gellon ned i galar i chent gîn ned i gladhog. Im ira no ngell nîn._" I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh. I want you to be joyous. For my joy.

Aragorn, nodded sadly, agreeing with his wife, though wishing he could stay. It was not kingly to do as he once was wont, and yet he missed it. Arwen was right.

"_Boe i 'waen._" I must go.

She answered him with a kiss to the brow. "_Guren níniatha n'i lû n'i a-govenitham." _My heart shall weep until I see you again. She left him to his thoughts.

xxxOOOxxx

Suddenly, a second shriek of laughter caught their attention and Arwen laughed aloud to see the shining face of her son as he received a splendid new bow, a gift from the last of the woodland elves.

"Father! Father! Watch me shoot!" Eldarion shouted, as he loosed a feather-tipped arrow. His boyish enthusiasm was endearing, and Aragorn smiled down fondly as his son listened attentively to Legolas's instructions. His second arrow struck true upon the target, though was far from the centre. Arwen and a lithe young woman applauded the young prince from afar.

Despite her worn travelling cloak and the fine sword she wore at her belt, Vána truly was beautiful. The mud splattering her face did mar her sharp cheekbones somewhat, but the attention was drawn from her face by her striking red hair, which was swept up out of her face and tied delicately with a ragged ribbon. She had few home comforts, but did not seem let down by this: a ranger survives on little but the ground they stand on.

Gimli chuckled aloud to see the young prince miss the target with his third arrow. He secretly hoped that he would be better with an axe, though it was clear that he would soon become a master at all forms of combat, with his limber elfish body.

"Aye laddie, you might make a better dwarf than you do an elf!" Aragorn and Vána chuckled with mirth, though Legolas appeared to take Gimli's comment seriously.

"And do you make a better dwarf, Gimli son of Gloin?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow and smirking at Vána's hoots and jeers. He drew his bow in one fluid movement and loosed an arrow at Gimli. He fell backwards, upending a tankard of mead in the process, but the arrow's aim was true. He sat, legs splayed and leather jerkin pinned to the wooden bench. A hearty laughter erupted around the courtyard.

"Oho!" Gimli cried aloud. "Now we see what a truly fearless fighter, he is really is!"

"Gimli," Vána warned, knowing where is roguish attitude would lead. She was too late. A fierce wrestling match between the two erupted into life, and was only ended by Eldarion joining in and proclaiming himself the winner.

xxxOOOxxx

Aragorn joined Vána. "The last of your belongings has arrived." He announced. "In it was this." He handed a gilt box, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand and laden down with gems. Vána gasped delightedly. The ring had been given to Lord Elrond for safekeeping before they had left for Mordor and she thought it lost until now. The only remnant of her true life away from Rivendell had been recovered. She examined it for damage. Not a single scratch had been bestowed upon the blue gem and the gold circlet was still as burnished as the day she had left.

She joined Gimli across the yard, pouring him another tankard of mead from a silver flagon, and helped him wrench the arrow from his jerkin.

"You almost won that time." She said, nudging him playfully.

"Whatever do you mean?" He protested. "A dwarf of this standing sees defeat as a slight upon his race!" He spoke gruffly, but with a twinkle in his eye which gave away his amusement.

"A dwarf of that standing should struggle to see anything!" She remarked with a wink and a laugh, darting away out of reach.

"You're not too old for a cuff about the ears you little-"

"Now, now! Mind your language Master Dwarf!" She teased. "Besides, who're you calling little? I'm older than you, I'll have you know!"

xxxOOOxxx

Dark clouds closed in, moving across the sky at a rapid rate, yet no one took much notice. The first few drops of rain fell, landing on Eldarion's head, bringing with it the unmistakable scent of a summer storm. While the others busied themselves with retiring to the keep, Gimli noticed the strange, ethereal appearance of the clouds above.

"Those are no normal clouds." He remarked aloud.

Vána looked up and froze, watching the purple mass of cloud swarm overhead. "There is evil at work here." She whispered.

"Something ill is afoot." Aragorn remarked, a frown returning to his face. His travel cloak, already soaked by the rain, blew violently in the breeze. "Run!" He cried, bundling Eldarion into Arwen's arms and ushering them away inside, as lightning struck the White Tree of Gondor. A fell voice echoed on the wind, and a wail rang out across the courtyard, but nothing could be done. Darkness fell.

xxxOOOxxx

They awoke with a groan. Gimli still clutched his tankard of mead though it had been shattered in the fall. He threw it away and it bounced off a rock with a dull thud. Minas Tirith was gone. Instead, they lay breathless in a small copse of trees. They were alone except for the breeze.

Vána fretted. "Where are we?"

Gimli spliced a log angrily, while Legolas wandered the woods, in awe.

"I'll tell you what lass," Gimli muttered, downcast. "We're a long way from home, and no mistake."

"These trees are strange," Legolas mused. "None grow this tall in Gondor."

Aragorn had sat silently for a moment, examining the horizon ahead, before beating the ground with his fist. A wordless cry of despair left his lips as he rose and kicked a tree stump furiously. Legolas placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly before jumping with shock and nocking an arrow.

"Someone's coming," He announced, as the others readied themselves. A shadow moved through the trees. _"Ai! Mithrandir!"_Legolas cried, dropping his bow and rushing to embrace their old friend.

"How do you know me?"

Vána's stomach dropped. How could he not remember them? After all they had been through, he should have remembered them, even if his memory was going slightly. And more to the point, how had he come back? Had the Valar sent him? But if so, why was he only Gandalf the Grey and not Gandalf the White as he once was?

"But Gandalf-" Gimli protested, stopping only when Gandalf raised his staff suspiciously.

"I do not know you, you are strangers in these parts. How did you come to know my name?" He asked.

"Not Gandalf then." Aragorn announced unsheathing his sword and directing his glare at the wizard. "This must be some trick of the eye. I am the rightful King of Gondor and you will leave me be. Begone foul being!"

Gandalf looked amused. "Then you must be mistaken. I amGandalf, and Gandalf means me. As for you, if you had not borne the sword that was broken, I too would name you some trick of the mind. As it is, however, I believe you."

Aragorn was not convinced. Vána leant closer and pushed his blade away from Gandalf. His hand grasped her wrist and he yanked her close without a word. For a long while, his eyes searched her. Finally he spoke.

"Where did you get that ring?" He demanded. "Quickly, child!"

"I was found with it." Vána admitted, backing away. This new, or old, Gandalf frightened her, though she would never admit it. "I was a ward of Lord Elrond in my infancy, though I can tell you no more. I know nothing of myself."

"A ward of Rivendell…" Gandalf mused. "And a lost King of Gondor…"He rounded on Legolas and Gimli. "And a dwarf and elf journeying together peacefully? This is most amusing. Very well. It is decided. I will help return you to your rightful homes."

He struck off through the trees. They had no choice but to follow.

"Wait! Where are we going?" protested Vána.

"Your problem is second on my list." Gandalf announced. "I promised to help a group of dwarves reclaim their homeland and it seems like you'll have to stick with me if you want to go home."

Vána held back for a moment and hissed in Aragorn's ear. "Dwarves reclaiming their homeland? With Gandalf? This could mean only one place." Aragorn nodded grimly. There was no going back now.


	3. Chapter 2: The Shire

**Thank you for all the reviews from chapter 1. Here's chapter 2, hope you enjoy and please suggest anything and reviews are welcome **

**xxxOOOxxx**

They had never been to The Shire before, not even Vána, or Aragorn, under the guise of Strider. In fact, Vána had only ever kept watch on the outskirts of Bree; she had often wondered what the Halflings' home was like, they all had. Though each of them was aware of the beauty of their own homes, nothing had prepared them for this. It was peaceful, untouched by the horrors which had plagued Middle Earth for centuries. It was quiet, and calm, and filled with the deep fruity laughter of many joyous hobbits, it was a home and it was lovely.

However, as they neared the village of Hobbiton, an overwhelming sense of guilt seemed to wrap itself around her and dampened her spirits. Before, the four hobbits had been innocent and pure. They had never left The Shire, never fought, never killed and that was precisely what had been asked of them. They had returned weary, broken and weighted down by their own burdens. She hoped that returning to the splendour of this place had helped them to heal somewhat.

Weaving through the centre of Hobbiton, marvelling at the hustle and bustle of market day, Vána smiled. If she had had a home, even half as like Hobbiton, then she would have had a much happier childhood, and would have been more inclined to run and play and do all the things expected of a girl, rather than take up arms against the monsters of the night, who liked to carry off children and gobble them up.

One gentlehobbit caught hold of her ear and tried to usher her along with the rest of the Bracegirdle bunch, small as she was. Gimli tried valiantly to hold back his laughter, earning himself a scowl and scathing remark shot his way.

"If it wasn't for your beard, you would've been mistaken too!"

Strolling up a hill and round a bend, Gandalf came to a halt at a prettily painted garden gate outside a splendid hobbit hole. Outside, seated on a small wooden bench, was a hobbit. This was no ordinary hobbit, as I'm sure you know.

"Good morning!" Bilbo greeted Gandalf cheerfully.

"What do you mean?" Gandalf replied immediately. "Doyou mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?" Vána and Aragorn, shared a confused look. It had taken them many years to get used to Gandalf's occasional riddles, but, even now, they still didn't understand them all.

"All of them at once, and a very fine morning indeed, for a puff of Old Toby-"

"Might I join you, friend? I haven't had a good smoke for a while, I seem to have misplaced my pipe!" Gimli interrupted.

The hobbit scoffed, stowing away his pipe. "Manners cost nothing!" He reprimanded sharply. "Good morning!"

With that, he was gone, retreating to the tranquillity of his own home. Gandalf harrumphed and stamped his staff into the ground in annoyance. "To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door? You've changed, Bilbo Baggins, and not entirely for the better. To think that you should not remember my name: I am Gandalf!"

Bilbo stopped dead.

"Gandalf? Gandalf! Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales?"

As Bilbo continued rambling in his own particular way, Vána mused over her own childhood. After her mother had died, it had fallen to Aragorn to look after her. Rather than accept his responsibilities, Aragorn had sent her to Rivendell, to live with the Elves. For the next few years, she saw nothing of him, until she heard of his own voluntary exile – he was no stranger to shirking responsibilities, it had seemed. She threw herself into fighting with a renewed vigour and soon joined him in The Wild, as a Ranger of The North. Though Rivendell was pleasant, full of singing and good food, and quiet pastimes, it was a different kind of fun than she was used to.

"Sorry, but we don't want any adventures here!" Bilbo was saying agitatedly "But come for tea! Anytime you like! Why not come tomorrow?" He fled, scurrying back into Bag End and slamming the door without a backwards glance. Gandalf chuckled in response and, with the spoke on the bottom of his staff, put a queer mark on Bilbo's newly painted front door.

"Come, let us see if we can't get some ponies for the journey ahead." He said, looking grim. It would be difficult to find horses in The Shire and it was likely that they would have to make do and mend with whatever they could get; hobbit ponies or not.

As they wandered towards Bywater, Vána noticed Gandalf's eyes wavering towards her hand. Her ring obviously held some interest, perhaps he knew something of its origins. Gandalf caught her looking at him curiously, and frowned. Rather than wait for him to name her a fool, as he once was wont to do, she blurted out a question instead.

"Is there any hope of our returning home?"

"There is a chance, don't despair, little mistress." He answered absentmindedly. They continued walking in silence, Gandalf puffing on his pipe contentedly before he stopped short, a twinkle in his eye. "I do beg your pardon but I seem to have forgotten your names." He turned to Aragorn. "By the sword, I know you to be Aragorn, Son of Arathorn."

"Renewed shall be blade that was broken. The crownless again shall be king." Aragorn answered, touching his brow in reverence. "My friends-" He gestured. "Legolas of the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood and Gimli, son of the dwarf Glóin. The girl is-"

"The girl is Vána." She cut in. "And she doesn't need to be introduced." She tossed her fiery hair angrily and jutted her chin out in defiance.

xxxOOOxxx

At dusk, Gimli and Vána stretched out on the grassy bank. Puffs of smoke danced on the breeze, as Gimli smoked away on a pipe bought at the market and Vána picked meadow flowers. It was quiet, save perhaps the sound of cattle lowing in the distance, and the sparrows bathing in the dust of the road.

"How old do you think Frodo is?" Vána mused aloud, as she watched Bilbo's garden gate sway and bang in the breeze.

"By my reckoning, he is not even a twinkle in his father's eye." Gimli answered. They fell silent. "Tell me this," he spoke again. "Why not use your full title when we met Gandalf? You are a Princess of Gondor, are you not?"

Vána laughed mirthlessly in answer. "Because I'm not. I don't belong at court, I am no Princess, Gimli. I am a Ranger and my place is in The Wild. I was about to leave when this happened."

"But you are as good as Aragorn's sister; your place is with him!" Gimli protested.

"No it's not, Gimli. I haven't got a _place._"

Vána would never have another home again, not after she had left the smoking remnants of her northern village. She knew what heartbreak and pain came from having a home; she would never put herself in that position again. The orc raid had destroyed everything; she had no home. Rivendell had suited her for a time, but as always, she moved on.

Gimli interrupted her thoughts as he choked upon the smoke he inhaled. As he coughed, he leapt up from his tree stump seat, shouting aloud. "Look! A Dwarf at Bag End! Gandalf never said my kinsman would be meeting us here!"

Vána smiled secretly. Despite the obvious snags joining this company would bring, she knew it would be worth it, to see Gimli reunited with his family, even for a short time.

A branch snapped behind them and Vána jumped, unsheathing her sword as Gandalf stepped through the trees. "Ah, they have begun to arrive." He remarked, making his way down the hill.

It was dark by the time they reached the summit of the hill and the dwarf had already reached Bilbo's doorstep. Gandalf halted them outside and mused aloud, "I think it would be best if Legolas remained outside, and perhaps Gimli too, for the time being." They nodded in agreement and sank to the grassy verge outside, Gimli already searching for his pipe.

The gate creaked as they entered the garden and heavy boots crushed flowering peonies underfoot as they trudged towards the dwarf. He turned, catching Gandalf's eye and cast an already mistrusting glance towards the two rangers.

"And pray tell me, Gandalf, who is this odd company you keep?" He asked bitterly, as the Man with the kingly countenance and the young woman with all the poise and bearing of one of Durin's Folk approached carefully.

"I think it would be better to explain it to you inside, where there is less chance for our story to be overheard; it is a long and terribly confusing tale. I am not entirely sure whether I understand it myself." The dwarf nodded, seemingly satisfied and turned, knocking thrice upon the door.

As they were admitted, Gandalf whispered urgently by way of an explanation. "Thorin Oakenshield. King Under-The-Mountain." Vána nodded. She had expected as much. He had a proud bearing, one which was unmistakably that of a king's.

As Gandalf stooped low under the grand beams of the hobbit hole, Bilbo scuttled up to them, bearing the most flustered expression. "Gandalf! If this is one of your tricks, then I can only say it is in very poor taste!" Aragorn and Vána broke into smiles at the sight of their old friend. He had not changed at all, though he was much younger than they remembered.

Bilbo glanced anxiously at them, before launching into a fresh tirade. "What are they even doing here? They've pillaged the pantry, trodden mud into my carpets and I'm sure they've all but destroyed the plumbing! And now you've brought Rangers!"

"Oh! They're quite a merry gathering once you get used to them! And these are no ordinary Rangers, I can tell you. They have a grand tale to tell you, Bilbo!" Gandalf remarked. Bilbo huffed in response and waved them through to the sitting room.

"Come on then, let me hear it!"

Thorin nodded solemnly from his place by the fire, leaning in to whisper in a snowy-haired dwarf's ear. "Yes Gandalf, let us hear this story and be away. We have tarried here too long already." His eyes narrowed and he began to frown as Gandalf relayed the story, introducing Vána and Aragorn to the dwarves. Finally, he shook his head. "They are as good as elves." He said. "I won't have them along."

"They are my friends, and they go where I go, whether you will it or no, Master Dwarf." Gandalf answered coldly, drawing himself up to his full height. "Besides, you will find that you will have need of them and their friends before long."

"Friends? You mean there's more of them?" piped up a dwarf near the back of the room.

"Are any of them Dragon-Slayers, Gandalf?" asked a younger looking dwarf, as his eyes lit up with wonder. An onslaught of questions followed, which was immediately answered by a deafening bellow as both Gandalf and Thorin called for silence. The room fell silent. Thorin rose to his feet, and by the dark expression on his face, he had guessed something of Gandalf's secrecy.

"Well then Gandalf, bring them in." He said, begrudgingly.

Gandalf closed his eyes and silently willed all of the patience he could muster onto Thorin. Even as the candlelight flickered in the breeze from the door, Vána knew that it had not worked. Legolas entered, stepping gracefully over the threshold. He was still very much cloaked by his hood but Thorin had seen enough. He turned his back on the elf, hand grasping tightly at the hilt of his sword. For a moment, he stood deliberating and quite silent, and Vána tensed. If he was to attack, Legolas would have no chance at defending himself; she must be on her guard.

"This is Legolas Greenleaf of the Woodland Elves. He can help us gain safe passage through the Greenwood."

Thorin dropped his hand and strode across the room in a fury, while the others grumbled and shot disapproving stares towards Legolas.

"How can you say that Gandalf? This elf's father betrayed my people to their deaths! How can you believe that he will not do the same?"

Legolas removed his hood in a flurry of movement. "My father would not risk the lives of his men for naught. Your home was already lost and your people fallen by the time his army reached you. He did not betray you!"

Aragorn intervened, placing himself between both Elf and Dwarf. "_Havo dad, Legolas._" Sit down, Legolas.

The elf looked up at his friend, then nodded and complied easily enough. Thorin too, retreated.

"What does he say?" and elderly dwarf asked, "Does he threaten our king?" He made a movement, as if to draw his sword, but Vána beat him to it and spoke in his direction, raising her voice over the clamour of the outraged dwarves.

"He does not threaten your king." She spat. "In fact, he is telling our friend to sit down. He is making sure that your king does not get his block knocked off!"

"And what would a woman know of knocking blocks off?" asked a heavily tattooed dwarf. "You'd better not be coming too, lassie, or we'll never get out of The Shire!" He announced to raucous laughter. Thorin did not laugh, nor did he smile, but he did agree. He rose and addressed the room at large.

"Dwalin is right. What good can come from a woman and a burglar who looks more like a grocer-" He indicated Bilbo "-from joining our quest? We will fail. What was your purpose in this Gandalf?"

A gruff voice interrupted Thorin, as Gimli entered the room, bearing a full tankard of ale. "We have seen no misfortune befall us whilst Vána has travelled with us, and we lived in much darker times than these. She is a finer fighter than most men and I'd like to see you beat her in an arm wrestle. She is coming."

Thorin blinked, unused to such unruliness, but the other dwarves leapt into excited chattering, several leaping forward to wring their kinsman's hand.

"We know you not." One said to him. "Where do you come from?"

"The Iron Hills!" another exclaimed, Dwalin, it was, "It has to be! What does Dáin say? Is he with us?"

Gimli looked to Gandalf helplessly as Glóin approached. "You have a look about you-" the older dwarf began, before trailing off as he noticed Gimli's axe. He reached for it, caressing the burnished steel lovingly. "How came you by this?" He asked, reaching for his own axe in order to compare the two. "It is a perfect replica!"

A calloused finger ran along the edge of the blade, until it came to a deep notch. Gimli looked up sheepishly. "An orc surprised you one day. It was notched upon his helm." Glóin nodded wordlessly, in shock.

"My son!" He announced to the room loudly, clasping Gimli to his breast. "Fortune indeed smiles upon us!"

xxxOOOxxx

Many hours later, and after many arguments, things had been settled and they had all tumbled into bed, grateful for a couple of hours sleep before setting out the next morning. Gandalf remained awake for some time, smoking quietly and wondering whether he had done the right thing. Thorin had been positively vile to Vána and Legolas; perhaps it would be better for them to follow on behind and head for Rivendell. Lord Elrond would be happy to help them, he was sure.

A cough interrupted his thoughts and Vána sat next to him, more interested in the night sky than sharing his company. He rearranged his cloak, then spoke quietly.

"It is said, that the First Elves awoke under the stars."

She smiled in answer. "The stories of the stars were always my favourite ones." She began to sing quietly.

"_A Elbereth Gilthoniel_ "O Elbereth Starkindler,  
_silivren penna míriel _white-glittering, slanting down sparkling like a jewel,  
_o menel aglar elenath!_ The glory of the starry host!  
_Na-chaered palan-díriel_ Having gazed far away,  
_o galadhremmin ennorath_**,** from the tree-woven lands of Middle-earth.  
_Fanuilos, le linnathon_ To thee, Everwhite, I will sing,  
_nef aear, sí nef aearon! _On this side of the Sea, here on this side of the Ocean!

___A Elbereth Gilthoniel_ O Elbereth Star-kindler,  
_o menel palan-diriel,_ from heaven gazing afar,  
_le nallon sí di'nguruthos! _to thee I cry now beneath the shadow of death!  
_A tiro nin, Fanuilos!"_ O look towards me, Everwhite!"

Gandalf sat patiently until she had finished, then nodded in approval. "The elves have taught you well, it is little wonder that Gimli had such high praise for you."

She scoffed at that, throwing back her plait to show a thin, pink scar running down her neck. "An orc raid destroyed my home and I was carried away by their leader, a huge Gundabad Orc. His arm was missing, but he had tried to replace it with a metal claw. When I struggled, he cut me. I nearly died that day, had I not remembered a knife I had hidden in my boot. The Elves taught me _so_ well that I failed to track him. He had disappeared into the mountains, far north where none could find him, they told me. I am no warrior, Gandalf, I merely survive."

"Everyone must prove themselves." He reassured her. "Especially to themselves. Perhaps you have yet to do that, do not worry about getting revenge."

"But how can I prove myself, if Thorin won't even trust us enough to let us come along?"

"Thorin yearns for his home. He is proud and untrusting, because he cannot bear to lose his one chance to regain Erebor. But he is a just king, give him time and he may come to understand you."

"May? I do not need uncertainty, Gandalf! I need someone who can get us home!"

"Patience, child." He answered. "All in good time. In the meantime, perhaps you would indulge me in telling me of the future?" When she nodded, he continued. "Tell me what you knew of me."

She smiled in remembrance. "Gandalf the Grey was the kindest, most splendid wizard in the whole of Middle-Earth. He was both mysterious and exciting, and he always stepped in to save us with one of his magnificent spells. He told wondrous tales and had brilliant fireworks. He was revered by all and mourned by many when he was killed by a Balrog. But-" she continued, "The Valar shined upon him, and he was sent back to help us once more. He became Gandalf the White, befriended one of the Mearas and helped us to save Middle-Earth and destroy Sauron once and for all. I always wondered if he knew something of my past, but never got the chance to ask."

Gandalf's expression softened, and he sat back for a moment to contemplate all that she had said. Then he stirred and turned to her. "Let me see the ring then." Yes, it was almost certainly Alatar's ring. She must be some close kin of his, for they both bore the same thoughtful expression.

He hummed thoughtfully, then returned it. "I will help you, if I can." He decided.

.


	4. Chapter 3: The leaving

**I am so sorry for the late update! Both my beta and I had exams and another apology is to all the people who have read further in this story and are now having to re-read it! Sorry! Thank you Fellowship of Avengers, luneara eclipse and Cattrs1992 for reviews! Again please review or give any suggestion for this story.**

**xxxOOOxxx**

That morning, Vána had awoken well before dawn. Bilbo's beautiful hobbit hole was a fearful mess, with unwashed crocks piled up in the washbasin, and trailing along Bilbo's beautiful wooden table. Breadcrumbs were spread lavishly all over Bilbo's writing desk, and a mug of ale had been spilt on one of his bookshelves. She sighed despairingly at the impoliteness of the dwarves, and set to, lighting fires and boiling water to wash up.

The contract lay where it had been left, fluttering in the breeze as she opened a window to let out the smell of stale smoke. Birdsong started up out of nowhere, as the orange glow of the sun began to shine through the treetops. She slipped out of the front door silently, and climbed to the peak of The Hill, watching as Hobbiton sprang to life way below. A cloaked figure met her there, keen grey eyes watching impassively as she sank to the ground beside them. Finally, Aragorn smiled.

"It is quite easy to forget that you have never been to Hobbiton before." he said "It is a remarkable place to be sure, though it's people take less than kindly to anything of a queer nature. We have been much too careless in showing our faces here; it cannot come to any good." He confided, a grim expression clouding his stern looking face. "I find it unlikely that any of these good people would wish us harm, but even hobbits relish gossip. Four strangers joining Gandalf's strange company? This is a tale that will last an age. I like it not."

Vána patted his arm reassuringly, smiling up at the Man she called her brother, as he fretted. "Gandalf is a wise man and a fine wizard; he says he will help us return to our home." She said. "You are a great leader, and I promise you that you will live to see your son again. I swear it. Come-" she said "-it grows cold and the others will soon wake, we must see to the horses." She offered her hand to him, as they rose from the dew-drenched grass together.

Aragorn shook hishead, fingering the hilt of his sword thoughtfully, as they descended the hill together. "I will go ahead." He said "I should like to have a look at the road ahead, see if we are being followed. There may yet still be some wild and wary things along the East Road and we would do well to avoid them."

"You cannot go alone!" She followed, protesting. Aragorn turned to face her, smiling grimly. "And yet I must do so, for I would not endanger you without need. Besides," He said, embracing her close to his heart. "I shall take more care than you, such a reckless young child." He smiled fondly, as she pushed at his shoulder in jest. "And care is needed."

Vána nodded, copper braid dancing in the dappled light peering through the treetops. Aragorn embraced his sister once more, then strode away down the hill, glancing back, as she waved him farewell. Moments later, hooves clattered past Bilbo's front garden, as he rode towards Eastfarthing Woods. She turned and ambled towards the top of the hill, hoping to see something of the world she had once known so well. The morning was still young, and though she found herself squinting into the morning sun, it was little more than an hour past dawn. A crow alighted from a tree nearby, squawking its disgust at the breach of peace as the tell-tale clang of metal against metal rang out across the hilltop. She drew nearer.

As she strolled ever higher, through the meadow flowers, Vána mused about Thorin. Though he was a rude and painfully proud Dwarf, she tried to understand Gandalf's surety about the King Under-The-Mountain. He was, she realised, a little like Aragorn, though her brother was never as rude as him, but they had both been thrust into leadership. Perhaps Aragorn could help ease a little of his burden as a ruler – Gandalf said he was a just king, but she had yet to see that. His treatment of the Halfling was deplorable and yet, she found herself agreeing with Thorin. Bilbo shouldn't be joining this Quest, despite his obvious usefulness. It was too dangerous for him, and too much of a gamble. Gandalf might be wise, but this was folly. Bilbo was pleasant, and polite, and a true gentle-hobbit. She liked him, but it would be too painful to watch him get hurt. Do not think that Vána was always so insensitive; she had watched plenty of her friends die in battle, but this time, she could not allow herself to feel such grief again; it would only paint her as a weak girl and she could not afford that.

Three dwarves sparred together in the early morning sun, little more than dark silhouettes against the sunrise as they each twisted and turned and parried each other's slashes. As she neared, it became clear that Thorin was coaching his two nephews, urging them on, even as he attacked and dodged and switched his focus from one brother to another.

"Good Fili! Now mind your feet! Kili, watch your grip! Good, now on my count! One, two, three!" He leaped sideways at Kili and spun, attacking Fili instead and catching him off guard. Their curses and pants echoed in the still air, and their brows were each shining with exertion. They must have slipped out of Bag End some time ago, she mused, she had not heard them. The three dwarves broke apart momentarily, and mopped the sweat from their brows. A shout rose up; one of the brothers had noticed her watching and approached. Thorin leaned upon his downturned sword and watched as the two younger dwarves eyed her with suspicion.

"And why are you awake so early, might I ask?" Fili asked, eyebrows quirking as she dithered on the spot. The conspiring glance he shared with Kili, instantly raised her suspicion, and she bit back forcefully.

"Why should it matter to you anyway? I am of no concern."

Thorin raised his eyebrow, but otherwise remained impassive, maintaining a stony silence while the two brothers circled the young Ranger, attempting to intimidate her.

"So tell me then, what are you?"

"A Ranger from the North and that is all you need to know." She turned to Thorin, well aware that he had put the two brothers up to this. "And again, Thorin Oakenshield, I am of no concern to you, or your kin, and you would do well to allow me and mine own to assist you on this Quest."

There was a stony silence between the two, as impassive blue eyes stared down furious, green ones. Finally, Kili looked at his brother and laughed aloud. "I like her." He announced, eyes flickering from his brother to his uncle and back again. "I shall leave you to mend relationships Thorin. Come Fili, let's see if we can rouse Bilbo and persuade him to make us a good breakfast before we set out!"

Thorin remained silent as he watched his two nephews leave, chatting animatedly and roughhousing as they rushed towards Bag End. The fire was going well, Vána noted, thick smoke was billowing from the chimney and even this far up The Hill they could smell the bitter tang of wood smoke. There was a long silence as his eyes roved her body, silently judging her. Finally he spoke. "I cannot allow you to join us. There is too much of a risk. If you are slain-"

Vána scoffed in his face. "If _I'm _slain? You need to worry about Fili and Kili – if they're slain then you have no heir. You need to worry about Ori – he has no armour, no real weapon; you really think he can hold off a Warg with a poxy slingshot? You are a fool. You need not worry about me; I am perfectly able to protect myself, unlike Ori." She said pointedly, turning her back on Thorin.

Vána felt the sudden draught upon the back of her neck as he lunged. She acted quickly, spinning to confront Thorin, whose face remained, even then, impassive, as she stopped his sword blow with little more than the dagger she concealed within her bosom.

He lowered his sword, a thoughtful expression suddenly springing to life upon his stern-looking face. "Well, you show some promise." He mused. "Perhaps you might come in useful. Why do you show so much determination to come along with us?"

"Where my friends go, I go. And Gandalf has said that if we are to go home, then we must come along with him. Aragorn will do anything to go home to his son, and if it means walking into certain death, I will help him to do that. He is my king, and I follow him."

xxxOOOxxx

As they re-entered the hobbit hole, it became clear that tempers had once again become frayed. The kettle had boiled, and was still sitting neglected above the stove. Its shrill whistling was almost drowned out by the uproar of several arguments at once. Vána leapt into action, pulling the kettle from the stove and making tea, before turning to watch as Legolas and Dwalin each leaped across the room in fury, about to come to blows. Gimli wrenched the Elves arms behind his back and fought valiantly to control his friend. Still stood by the open door, was Thorin, going unnoticed by many of the others.

"What do you say about my people?" Legolas spat at Dwalin, who was still struggling in the arms of both Nori and Bifur.

"I say they betrayed us, you elvish scum!"

Vána shook her head despairingly, even Gandalf's few choice words on the matter had not been heeded, even when he clunked Dwalin on the head with his staff, he was ignored. She crossed the room, and approached Dori, who was chastising Fili and Kili at the top of his voice.

"You think this is proper princely conduct? What would your father say?"

"Come on Dori, it was just a joke!"

"Ori certainly doesn't seem to think so! Do you Ori?"

"Well, actually, it was quite funny!" Ori stuttered out, offering an embarrassed shrug towards the two brothers, who were steadily passing Ori's slingshot to each other, behind their backs. Vána sprung, snatching it back and cracking the two young dwarves on the back of the head. To Dori, she handed a cup of chamomile tea, hoping that he would cease shouting once he became calmer. He took one sip, and visibly quietened.

The noise trailed away steadily, as Vána helped to solve as many conflicts as possible. Eventually Thorin stepped forwards out of the shadows. His footsteps echoed on the wooden floorboards and at the drop of the hat, silence fell. He spoke, an air of finality punctuating each word. "They come with us."

Dwalin opened his mouth to protest, but Thorin turned upon him and barked out at him. "_Shazara!_" Silence!

Gandalf broke the silence to explain. "Where else can they go?" He said. "I must search for a way to return them to their homes, and I cannot do that if they are not with us and instead causing havoc around Middle-Earth, wandering unchecked because the Dwarves don't like the Elves. Save me from the stubbornness of fools!"

xxxOOOxxx

A pair of woodpigeons fluttered away from the Company as they rode through Eastfarthing Woods. One of the ponies spooked, and the Dwarves jeered as Bombur slipped sideways in the saddle. That moment of laughter was a welcome respite from the stony silence they had encountered since leaving Bag End. Legolas too was silent, ignoring even Vána, as he mulled over all that Dwalin had said. Vána was concerned, she had never seen the elf so angry in all his life. She kicked her horse into a trot, and rode up alongside him, but suddenly a bird broke from under the cover of the undergrowth.

Vána and Legolas froze. "Something's coming!" She shouted aloud, even as she drew her sword and wheeled away into the woodland, Legolas right behind her. As they rode deeper into the woods, to meet the intruder head on, she heard the shouts of Thorin and the Company came to a halt. When Aragorn emerged, with golden sunlight at his back, she sighed visibly and stowed away her sword.

"You might have warned us!" She scolded, eyes lighting up at the sight of the roe buck he had slain. "But as you've returned with a nice bit of venison, you may have my forgiveness, just this once!"

Boredom was rife amongst the Company already. Soon, bets began to flow freely, on whether Bilbo would turn up, whether he had brought everything he needed, and if he even knew where they were going. Vána hoped he would come. Since that morning, she had had time to think on the hobbit, and she had changed her mind. It might be dangerous to have him along, but he was just as pleasant as he had once been; he would talk to her at least. Besides, it was almost certain that he would not be slain on this journey; for was he not still alive by the time Frodo had destroyed the Ring? Her train of thought was interrupted when she realised she had dropped back to the end of the ride, and Kili spoke to her, distractingly.

"Do you think he'll come, Vána?"  
"Yes, I hope so, anyway." She mused aloud, playing absentmindedly with her pony's mane.  
"Oh and why's that, lassie? Are we not good enough company for you?" Bofur jested, turning in his saddle with a wink.  
"I hope that Bilbo comes, because I would welcome a break from all these quarrels! At least he would talk to me!" She spoke harshly, but Bofur seemed not to care; truthfully, most of the dwarves had not started arguments with her brother and friends, Bofur in particular, had almost nice to her.

Despite Thorin's reluctance to have Bilbo along with them, his expression again remained impassive and uncaring as Bilbo caught up with them. Vána watched him carefully as Balin checked Bilbo's contract, and was unsurprised to see his expression darken as the others rejoiced in Bilbo's appearance and as money exchanged hands quickly and less than discreetly. He turned his pony away, still bearing a flinty expression, ignoring the others as they began to warm up to Bilbo.

Silence fell, though this time it was an almost pleasant one. Until the rain started. At first it was cool and refreshing; only a light drizzle through the treetops, but after several hours of nonstop rain and no break in between, the others became restless. Conversation started up, seemingly innocent at first, until Dwalin made a fleeting comment to raucous laughter, forcing Legolas to speak up.

"What did you say?"

"I said Elves are great poncy gits!"  
"At least our women are ladies fair, with faces smooth and clear"

"Dwarf-women are revered amongst our people, bearded or no! We will stand for no insult made towards them!" Dwalin interrupted, making as if to bare steel against Legolas.

Vána rode alongside Legolas, placing a calming hand upon his, as his fingers twitched, ready to reach for his bow. She glanced at Gandalf, who nodded, reminding her of her promise. She sighed, resigned.

"Silence! No one speaks, no one moves, no one so much as breathes without my say so!" Vána shouted, eyes narrowed and shoulders tensed, daring anyone to answer back. Ori turned in his saddle, eyes wide with fright as she stared down so many battle-ready Dwarves.

"We do not take orders from women!" Dwalin sneered in reply.  
"Well maybe if you did, you wouldn't make yourself look like a fool!"

"Oh you little…" Dwalin cursed, looking ready to swing at her with his fists. Vána reacted quickly, throwing the first punch. Dwalin reeled in the saddle, slightly dazed and confused as the others laughed at his misfortune. She rode ahead out of his way, hoping that he had understood the warning. He had, but that did not stop him from mumbling a few choice words and scowling at her, behind her back.

xxxOOOxxx

As dusk fell, they made camp. Soon a fire was blazing away merrily and they enjoyed piping hot venison stew, whilst complaining about and comparing their saddle sores. Thorin, ever the distinguished King, sat apart from the others and stared into the fire, smoking thoughtfully. Aragorn too, sat away from the others, though Vána knew that this was not to maintain his kingly countenance, but in order to be alone with his thoughts. He too smoked, she could see gentle wisps of smoke trailing away over the treetops, though he sat with his back to her. His hood was up, and she wished he had remained with her, as the steady prickle up her neck showed Thorin was watching her.

"Who will take first watch?" Thorin rose, and the others groaned in response. In such warmth and comfort, many of them were already drifting off to sleep by the fire, clothed as they were. When none agreed to take the first watch, Vána offered to do it, knowing that first watch was the easiest. Thorin's expression suggested he was less than pleased with the idea, and after a moment, he begrudgingly agreed to share the first watch with her. The evening crawled by in relative silence, until Thorin spoke curiously.

"You are always so focused. Why is it you are so determined to prove yourself?"  
"Keeping watch is a great responsibility. People's lives are in your hands when you watch over them, and if you make a mistake, or doze off, then you risk their safety. I would not wish that on anyone, and so I stay focused." Vána replied without looking at him.

Thorin nodded silently, secretly impressed with her humility. He scolded himself for warming up to her so quickly. She was a remarkable swordswoman, that much was true and she carried herself well enough to put Dwalin in his place. Certainly she would make a formidable foe, but the thought of befriending her left a bitter taste in his mouth. He did not like to admit he was wrong. And he definitely was wrong. This woman was an enigma.

"Go to sleep." He said, finally. "I can take this watch."

She shook her head. "I took this watch for a reason." She said. "So that I could sleep the night through without disruption. You can take second."

Thorin nodded, stretching out on his furs and watching the stars for a moment. He chanced a look at Vána, and saw that she was unplaiting her red hair sleepily. Soon she began humming a song to herself. He fell asleep shortly after.

As she nudged him with her boot, Thorin shot bolt upright, dagger in hand, only to drop the weapon when he realised where they were. Vána looked exhausted, though he already knew she would never admit it. They switched places and as he settled down to keep watch, Vána handed him back his cloak.  
"But you will need it. The night will quickly become cold."  
"I've slept on rocks before. The grass will be comfortable enough." She answered with a wry smile. Thorin did not protest. He was confused by Vána. She acted so strong in front of everyone but on occasion, when she thought no one could see, she looked like a little lost child, playing soldiers in a world of conflict.

Thorin was distracted, his focus lost and suddenly he couldn't stop himself from checking on the woman asleep next to him. She was so young, so vulnerable and now that he thought about it, a little like his nephews. She had no home, no real family and she needed looking after, though just like them, she would never admit it. His distraction led to a tense night, as the shadows became darker, and branches leapt out of the darkness at them. Soon even the clouds began to mock him, taking the forms of distorted mountains, dragons and huge pale orcs emblazoned against the night sky.

Vána whimpered in her sleep. As Thorin turned around, he saw he curl up into a tight ball with an almost pained expression on her face. He shook her shoulders, willing her to wake up, but she flinched away from his touch. Then the screaming began.

xxxOOOxxx

Beside the fire, Gandalf too was dreaming.

He was standing next to the White Tree of Gondor watching a young boy practice with a splendid bow, blissfully unaware that his dark-haired Elvish mother was crying. The boy tugged on her skirts with a small hand. "Mother, where have father and Vána gone?" He asked in a small voice, lip wobbling as the queen wailed with anguish. A door slammed, and footsteps echoed across the courtyard as the Steward approached her, shaking his head in defeat.  
"King Elessar, and his companions are nowhere to be found. I am sorry, we have scoured the whole of Gondor." He said, bowing his head with grief.

Without warning, Gandalf found himself stood in the midst of Fangorn Forest. A strange, white wizard emerged from behind the trees, and yet, though Gandalf did not know him, the wizard did look familiar.  
"They are back." The white wizard warned.  
"Who is back?"  
"They are back."

"I do beg your pardon, but this is most confusing…"  
"A great evil rises in the east and an old enemy returns."

"What old enemy? Do you mean Gothmog? Be clear!"

The white wizard nodded, then spoke again. "Watch over the Rangers and their friends. They must live past this quest or things will never be the same again." The wizard warned.  
Then, he smiled at Gandalf."I have become so used to being Gandalf the White, that I quite forgot I was once Gandalf the Grey!"

Then, darkness.

Gandalf woke up, only to hear a scream on the other side of the camp.  
"So they were telling the truth!"


	5. Chapter 4: The Letter

**Sorry for the wait. Thank you to Fellowship of Avengers, luneara eclipse, Cattra1992, Abyss Prime and Thenightsdeath for reviews. Please tell me any suggestions you have.**

**xxxOOOxxx**

It was meant to be kept secret. A secret that only she knew, and would never share, not even with Aragorn. Her dreams, so vivid and so twisted, were also shameful, and to speak freely of them, with anyone, served as but a memory of that awful day. Gandalf, had once questioned her on the matter, but she had built a wall in her mind, and blocked the dreams from occurring quite as frequently. He had left her alone after the dreams quietened, hoping, though perhaps not quite believing that they had gone forever. Now they had returned.

Images of a dark shadow and a pale orc were frequently intertwined with each other, coupled with the screams of a man and a woman; her parents, she dared to think on more than one occasion, though she had never met them nor heard their voices.

The dreams made her jumpy, and more mistrusting than usual. Every crack of a branch warranted a search of the woods, and each warning chirrup from squirrels high above their heads, was a sign of danger. The others were becoming steadily more anxious, watching Vána prowl the treeline, with a constantly drawn sword. Her fear made her unreachable, even by Aragorn, and each time anyone approached, she answered them with a snarl and twitch of her blade. She was a caged animal, tense and taught with worry, pacing up and down the campsite and inspecting every little sound. Gandalf's eyes followed her everywhere she went, distrusting and cold, desperate for answers, and yet too wary to approach her in such a state. Thorin kept a close watch on her, staring through the dense smoke and flickering light brought by the fire. He too, kept his distance, though often his hand could be found wandering to the hilt of his sword, ready to draw arms if the need arose.

Ori tugged on Dori's sleeve, wide-eyed. "Is she okay?"

"Hush now Ori, leave her be!" His older brother scolded, ushering him away from Vána, lest he offend her with his constant questions. Vána huffed, and stalked away into the woods, wanting a bit of piece of quiet and the chance to avoid so many stares.

A branch cracked. She froze. Another branch cracked, and leaves began to rustle. She readied herself.

He had not expected her to drop out of the tree. Nor had he expected her to make a frenzied attack at him. He parried, flung her sword away, and backed off. Vána watched with a stony glare, as he wiped away blood from a cut on his forehead with a grim smile. When he made a move to approach again, she lunged at him with a knife. He caught it just in time, bare-handed, and chuckled mirthlessly as the steel rested against his throat.

"Now, now, I've come to help." He taunted, releasing her blade to wipe at his neck, where the sharp steel had nicked the skin. Blood welled up, and he nodded appreciatively at her ferocity.  
"I need no help." She replied shortly. "I see." Thorin answered, then, after a short silence. "Might I ask you something?"  
"No."  
"Why not?"  
"Because it is none of your business!"  
"Tell me why such a fearless ranger is so scared of a little nightmare, that she screams loud enough to wake a dragon?" Vána frowned.  
"Why pretend that you care anyway? It was only yesterday that you accused me of setting out to rob you of your gold!"

"Because you look pained."  
"It is of no matter."  
"For Durin's sake, woman! We could help, if you let us!"  
"I don't want your help! I would rather suffer in silence!"

She stalked off through the trees, leaving Thorin to the silence of the woods. The campsite was quiet. Vána was nowhere to be seen, and Gandalf had vanished too. Perhaps he had gone to speak with the young ranger.

Gimli offered him a bowl of Bombur's stew, and he accepted gratefully, sitting next to the younger dwarf in a contemplative silence.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Gimli looked across at Thorin. "You looked preoccupied." He shrugged apologetically.

Thorin rolled his eyes, and answered begrudgingly "You could say that."  
"This is not about regaining Erebor, is it?"  
"No." Thorin frowned. "This is about the ranger girl. And her nightmares."  
"About Vána?"

Thorin nodded wordlessly, then added as an afterthought. "Did she have these nightmares when she travelled with you?"

"She suffered nightly when I first met her, but they suddenly seemed to stop. She never talked about them, never told us what happened. I thought they were gone for good, but perhaps I spoke to soon."

"Will she ever speak about them? To anyone? Her husband?"  
Gimli shook his head."No, I don't think she would. She is too secretive, and too independent. She will have no man. And no man will have her."

"Why is that?"

Gimli chuckled around his pipe. "She has bested many a man with sword. Come to think of it, she has bested many men in a bare-knuckled fight. And she can easily drink an Elf under the table. An _Elf_! Or because her scar mars her beauty, though naturally I disagree. She is without a doubt the most beautiful woman in the land, except for the Lady of Lorien." He sat reminiscing slightly for a moment before starting in surprise. "I shouldn't have told you about Vána's scar! Forget about it, it was just a battle scar."

"Gimli, tell me about the scar. I want the truth!" Thorin demanded, half rising, and towering over the young dwarf, using his kingly influence to force the answer. Gimli quailed under his stare.

"Oh damn it. Vána's village was raided by orcs and she was attacked by one. A great monstrous brute, so I'm told."

"How did she get the scar though?"

"The orc only had one arm. The other one was metal and Aragorn presumed it was that which caused such a deep wound."

"She told you this?"

"Not many know this story, so it would be better for us both if she does not find out I told you! Don't let her know."

"You have my word, I will not."

xxxOOOxxx

Gandalf had followed Vána deep into the woodland, following as she scrambled up a rocky scree and perched high upon a rock, waiting for him to catch up.  
"You asked me to help you find out about your past. Tell me what you know."  
"I was found with a letter that no one can read."  
"Well, it's a start." Vána handed him a ragged scrap of parchment, tucked inside her corset for safe-keeping.

_Whomever it may concern,_

_The babe found in the basket with this letter is the daughter of Alatar and Eliv. Eliv was human and a healer of the north. The child will have a longer life span than most, though we know not how long she may have. Please tell her that she was loved and that her parents wished that they could have lived long enough to see her grow up. It is presumed that they were killed by a Balrog, returned from death by some unseen force, but we have no proof._

_I wish for her to be called Vána_. _Please tell her that I love her. Look after her._

The last line was written in the common tongue and was smudged slightly, by the tears of whoever had written the letter. As he read it to her Vána her eyes started to fill with tears. At least now she knew she wasn't just abandoned because her parents didn't love her. It gave her some peace at least.

"Well that's curious." Gandalf remarked, fumbling in his pockets for his pipe.  
"What do you mean?" Vána demanded  
"Well, Gothmog has returned from the dead for a reason. He must be responsible for your parent's death, and I suspect he must have a greater plan in amongst this."  
"Who is this Gothmog?"  
"A very long time ago, he was one of the Chief servants of the Dark Lord Morgoth and Lord of all Balrogs. He was slain by an elf named Ecthelion, if I remember rightly."  
"Who's Alatar?"  
"He was one of the Istari, like myself. He was a calming fellow, a Blue Wizard. I enjoyed his company very much, although I never expected him to start a family. It was never in his nature to be settled."  
"I guess it's just another mystery I will never know!"  
"Maybe we will find more answers when we reach Rivendell."  
"Rivendell? But the dwarves will never go there, have you forgotten how much they hate the elves! He won't agree to go!"  
"What the dwarves don't know, won't hurt them!" Gandalf answered exasperatedly.

xxxOOOxxx

When Gandalf and Vána returned to the camp they found that they were alone. The fire was smouldering and the horses were restless. Vána knelt close to the ground, examining the mud for tracks. It was hard not hard to follow the trail of thirteen dwarves, heavy as their boots were. Nearby a lighter step had left small imprints in the dewy grass. Legolas must have gone with them. And where Legolas was, her friends were sure to follow. They led towards the woodland and disappeared deeper into the midst of the trees. They were surefooted and their track was straight – they were in a rush, wherever they were going.

"I leave them for a few moments and they get into trouble! Oh, save me from the stupidity of dwarves!" Gandalf shouted throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.  
"I think that perhaps, there is something afoot, Gandalf. We should look for them"

xxxOOOxxx

Vána saw a column of smoke rising from a clearing over the rocks. As she wove her way through the trees, she suddenly realised that the birdsong had died away. The woods were silent. It did not bode well. As she rounded the corner, she soon found out why. Three monstrous looking trolls had taken both the dwarves and her friends captive. Bilbo was grasped firmly in one troll's meaty fist, and was talking to them, quickly and nervously. Vána settled down in the undergrowth and listened, trying to figure out his plan.

"You shouldn't eat them, they all have worms in their tubes! They're riddled with parasites, it's a horrid, nasty business. I really wouldn't bother with it all, if you ask me." Bilbo struggled against the grip of the troll.

"Well it don't look like they do..." One troll said, confused. He picked up one of the sacks, ignoring the yells of the dwarf lodged inside, and sniffed at it suspiciously. "'Ow can you tell anyway? Bert, how can we tell if they've got worms in their tubes?"

"Oi! We haven't got parasites! You've got parasites!" Kili thrashed about, desperate to get his revenge on Bilbo. Thorin kicked out once, dislodging Kili from the pile of dwarves. His face made a silent 'o' of recognition, before he back-tracked and followed Bilbo's lead.

Apparently Thorin had figured out his plan.

"Yes I've got worms the size of my arm." Gloin shouted out, in agreement.  
"No, mine are the biggest parasites! I have huge parasites!" Kili disagreed.

Vána took her chance while the trolls were distracted and picked up a hefty-looking pebble. Her aim was true and it hit one of the trolls dead in the troll howled in shock and pain, spinning around in a panic, as he looked around frantically for his attacker. His eyes settled on Vána.

"Ooh look Bert! I wonder if _she_ has parasites. Can we eat her instead?" A large hand reached out to snatch at Vána, missing her by inches, as she only just managed to vault from the stone and evade his grasp. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gandalf crouch behind the boulder and ready his staff. Without a moment to spare, he smote the rock in half.

"The dawn will take you all." He cried aloud.

The orange and pink dawn glow filled the clearing and the trolls shrieked with agony as they rapidly turned to stone. Vána smiled with relief, and strode down the hillside to re-join the others and help Aragorn to extricate Gimli from the troll's crude spit over the fire. He was red in the face and dripping in sweat, much like the others, but seemed none the worse for wear.

"Where did you get to, if I may ask?" Thorin demanded, stalking over to Gandalf.  
"I went to look ahead."  
"And what made you come back?"

"Looking back."

xxxOOOxxx

"Down here." Gandalf ushered them into the cave, watching carefully, as they inspected the trolls' hoard. In and amongst the mountain of gold they had scavenged, sat old tools and clothes presumably stolen from the old farmhouse. Gandalf shifted a pile of broken crockery and coughed at the pungent smell of the cave, as Thorin examined the broken weapon rack in the corner. Gandalf soon joined him, poring over his shoulder at the fine swords he held in his hand. A finger hovered above the worn etchings of the silver scabbards, tracing the vines and leafy imprints upon the blades themselves.  
"These were forged in Gondolin. How is it that they came to be here? In a troll cave of all places!" Gandalf wondered aloud, finally. He hummed thoughtfully, and handed the smallest blade to Bilbo. "Here, this is about your size I think."  
"These are fine blades. Very well crafted." Vána said admiringly, as she examined the blades with wonder.

They were interrupted by a shout from outside. "Something's coming!"

Thorin and Gandalf looked to each other, before drawing their swords and hurrying outside. "Stay together!" He was saying, as they gathered together in an easily defensible gully.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" The stranger shouted aloud, as he crashed through the undergrowth.

"Radagast! What on earth are you doing here?" Gandalf asked.  
"Gandalf! I was looking for you! Something is wrong! Something is terribly wrong!"

They walked away, speaking hurriedly, and with a great look of concern on their faces. Radagast's news must be of great importance, Vána decided, then looked away fretfully.

A howl came up from the hillside and they leapt to their feet, readying weapons instantly.  
"Was that a wolf? Are there wolves out there?" Bilbo asked. Vána shook her head grimly. It was not, and the others knew it. As the warg leapt from the rocky crag above them, Vána was dimly aware of Aragorn's shouting from way below.

"Legolas shoot it! Bring it down!"

She readjusted her sword grip, and rolled her shoulders, as the warg bore down on her, arrows aplenty lining its sides. She prepared to swing, as the warg continued its headlong charge. Suddenly the warg dropped to the ground, its spine severed by Thorin's heavy handed blow. It slid a few more feet, legs twitching in its death throes, then came to a standstill. He shot a black look at her, one that blamed her for getting in the monster's path, and causing undue harm to herself. She spat and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. She would prove herself to him soon.

Suddenly another shout went up. "Kili! Get your bow!"  
A second warg, leapt out from the gully, diving straight at Thorin, as he wrestled his sword from the body of the dead warg. Kili shot at it, and it collapsed, cracking a tree in half with the force of its fall. Dwalin lodged his axe in its skull, making sure it was dead.  
"Warg-Scouts! That means an orc pack is not far behind!" Thorin spat.  
"Orc pack?" Bilbo gulped visibly.  
"We have to get out of here!" Dwalin shouted, circling wildly as he followed the sound of the howling.  
"I'll draw them off!" Radagast announced, making for his rabbits.  
"These are Gundabad wargs, they will outrun you!"  
"These are Rhosgobel rabbits! I'd like to see them try!"

xxxOOOxxx

They came to a halt in a huge grassy plain, surrounded on all sides by wargs and leering orcs. Kili stood on higher ground, loosing arrows as fast as he could, but there were still too many. Legolas soon joined him, taking choice shots at those furthest away. If they were not in mortal danger, Vána would have been in awe at her friend's skill. After a moment's deliberation, Aragorn strung up his own battered bow, kept after all those years, and lent them his aid. Wargs dropped like flies, with agonised yelps, but more kept coming, and after a moment, some that they had struck down got back up and continued their charge, albeit on three legs.

"Where is Gandalf?" A cry went up.  
"He's abandoned us" Thorin growled. Vána rolled her eyes.  
"Down here! Quickly, now!" Gandalf suddenly appeared from a large rock.

"Where's Bilbo?" someone shouted.  
"That damned halfling'll get us all killed!" Thorin growled with frustration, risking a glance over his shoulder.  
"He's here!" Gimli shouted, swinging his axe at an orc, as it rode past on an incensed warg. He was tossed to the ground, and scrambled back to his axe as a huge shadow fell across him. The orc fell down dead, an arrow through his forehead, well-aimed by Legolas. He nodded his thanks to his elven friend, before ushering Bilbo into the pass. Legolas was joined by Kili, still firing arrows at a quick-fire pace as they retreated into the gorge.  
"Come on!" Gandalf shouted up to them, offering his hand to Vána. "Don't be foolish!"  
"There's no time! I'm sorry." Vána shouted, pushing Thorin down the shaft and lunging at the orc attacking them. She took him down with one deft stroke of her sword and wheeled about to face Gandalf as he protested.

"Vána if you die, the fate of Middle-Earth could change! The Fellowship could fail!"  
"It won't make a difference if I die. They would have destroyed Sauron without me!" Vána cried, turning to slash at another orc, ignoring the pleas of Bofur and Ori, and the agonised expressions of Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli.

She lingered a little too long on that of the man she called her brother, and that was her undoing. Her parting glance had left her undefended and suddenly she was grabbed from behind. Then, darkness.


	6. Chapter 5: Rivendell

**Sorry for the wait. Thank you to Fellowship of Avengers, luneara eclipse, Abyss Prime, Cattra1992 and echoi5004 for the reviews.**

Almost as soon as Thorin was hauled to his feet by Dwalin, Aragorn rounded on the dwarven king. He towered over him, fist clenched and teeth gritted with a dark fury which was unmatched by even the blackest of glares thrown his way by Dwalin.

"This is your fault. You should have stopped her." He spoke quietly, but with a steely glint in his eye which betrayed his true feelings. Thorin bristled, but otherwise said nothing. Gandalf pushed his way between the two, brandishing his staff to ward off the others, who were stood watching sullenly with their hands on their weapons, still mistrustful of the strange man in their midst.

"Aragorn, calm yourself! Give Vána a little more credit! She can look after herself well enough, and we may find her yet. With a little luck, she will be fine." He said, looking solemn. Aragorn sighed with despair.

"Luck is not enough, in times as dark as these." Aragon countered morosely, before turning and slamming his fist against the rock beside Thorin's head, in a blind fury. An anguished yell echoed around the cavern and he wept openly, disregarding his bruised and bloodied knuckles, almost relishing the pain in penance for the danger his sister was in. All was almost certainly lost, he realised.

"_Aragon, tolo ar nin." __Come with me. __Legolas said, frowning his disapproval. He placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder, directing him away from the others and muttered lowly in his ear.  
"No dhínen, hebo estel" __Be silent; have hope._

_Aragorn shrugged out of his grasp  
"Leithio nin." __Release me.__ He spat, before spinning on his heels and striding away down the tunnel, leaving the others behind. The sound of Aragorn's heavy footsteps echoed for a long time yet to come, and when silence finally fell, it brought no relief from the tension in the air. Gandalf cleared his throat awkwardly, ignoring Ori's sniffles as he quietly wept into Dori's handkerchief. Many of the dwarves had come to be fond of the young ranger girl, and now that she was gone, they felt the same pain as Aragorn and his friends, though they would never admit it, of course._

"Is everyone unharmed?" The company nodded solemnly in answer, shuffling to hide cuts and bruises before Gandalf examined them. The longer they stayed in this place, to salve and bandage such meagre wounds, was less time that they could spend searching for Vána.

Bilbo remained quiet, tucked away in one of the nooks and crannies of the tunnel. He had been shoved to the back of the group almost as soon as they had entered the tunnel and now he was just beginning to doze off after a long night with no sleep. The dampness of the tunnel was hardly comforting, but he missed his nice feather bed. If only he had managed to keep up with the others; then Vána would still be here, cursing and reprimanding Aragorn for being so rude. They would send him back to The Shire for certain now. Though it was probably for the best.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads, do we follow it or no?" Dwalin asked aloud. He received no answer from Thorin or Gandalf and turned to the others for their opinion.  
"Follow it of course!" Bofur answered earnestly, still gripping his mattock tightly in one hand.

They pushed and shoved their way along the tunnel, climbing over rocks and slipping on mossy ground. Bifur grunted a curse in Khuzdul as a drip of icy water trickled down his neck, and the others chuckled at his wild gestures. Finally, they caught up with Aragorn, who was stood silently on the side of the mountain, admiring the view of the valley.

"The Valley of Imladris. Though in the Common Tongue it is known by another name…"  
"Rivendell!" Bilbo finished, nearly speechless with admiration.

"Here lies the Last Homely House East of the Sea."  
"This was your plan all along." Thorin accused Gandalf, with an acidic tone, as they descended the mountainside towards Rivendell. Legolas and Aragorn led the way, speaking in hushed tones and glancing nervously at the elvish buildings ahead of them.

Legolas made his way down the mountainside in silence, a deep frown clouding his so often merry expression. Rivendell was a safe place, they could heal and rest here without fear of attack, indeed, the sounds of rushing waterfalls and the peacefulness of the surrounding woodland was more than comforting. The others were beginning to relax already, loosening their grips on weapons previously readied to lop off a head or two. Still, his worry outweighed the promise and comfort of a good night's sleep. His being here was dangerous. Elves live a long time, as I'm sure you know, and the seventy years between that of the Quest for Erebor, and the Fellowship were nothing to an Elf. He was still alive, and still living in the Greenwood. Nothing good could come of this.

They waited in the courtyard, milling about restlessly as Lindir, one of Lord Elrond's most trusted servants spoke quietly with Gandalf. Suddenly, the air was rent in two and the peaceful quiet was shattered by the sound of Elvish horns and the sound of hoofbeats.

A shout of "Ifridi bekar! Close ranks!" went up, and Bilbo was yanked into the centre of the group of dwarves, as a column of mounted elves approached at a canter. They were quickly surrounded. Gandalf stepped forward, eyes twinkling with merriment as Elrond dismounted to greet him, ignoring the dwarves' tense expressions. They spoke quietly in elvish for a moment, before the elven lord approached the company.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thráin." he said.  
"I do not believe we have met."

"You have your grandfather's bearing." Elrond said, turning away with a smile. The smile faded to an expression of confusion, as Aragon stepped forward, bowing his head in reverence and extending his hand in an act of respect.

"Elen síla lumenn' omentiel vo." _A star shines on the hour of our meeting. _He approached the elven lord.

"Iston le? Man eneth lín?" _Do I know you? What is your name?_ Lord Elrond replied, leaning closer to examine Aragorn's features. A frown deepened the age old lines on the elves face and he spoke in the Common Tongue. "I know your face."

The frown deepened even more when his gaze landed upon that of Legolas. "Ai! Hîr vuin, Legolas! Mae govannen!" _Oh! My lord Legolas! Well met! _"I had not thought to see you hear for a long time yet to come! You are most welcome here!"

He turned to Gandalf, eyebrow raised in confusion. "Well, well, Mithrandir, it seems you come bearing a most enthralling tale to share with us. Let us speak freely inside."

" Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor. Boe i annam vann a nethail vin."_Light the fires, bring out the wine. We must feed our guests. _Elrond announced to the courtyard, offering a stern expression to the dwarves, as they murmured amongst themselves.

Glóin was outraged. "What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?" He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and scowled towards the elven lord. The others quickly followed suit.

"No, Master Dwarf, he is offering you food and drink." Legolas answered.  
"It is true." Gandalf confirmed, looking to Thorin for an answer. Thorin scowled and opened his mouth, no doubt preparing some ill-timed insult, but a sweet voice exclaimed aloud across the courtyard, and they were interrupted.  
"Ada!" _Father!_

They turned, to see a lady fair to look upon, descending the stairs with a grace like to that of Nessa, who would yet dance for eons on the never-fading grassy lawns of Valinor. Not even a glimmer of frost clung to her beautifully dark hair, and her litheness and swiftness of foot betrayed her age, for she was young, and yet not so. Her eyes sparkled with a lightness and a spark of knowledge known only to the wisest, grey like a misty morn, yet clear like a cloudless day. She was Adlanna, daughter of Elrond, and it was said that in her face could be seen the likeness of the elf-maiden, Nella, come to earth again. Much like it was said of her sister Arwen, much lovelier and gentler and wiser than the elder, whose queenly gaze was said to be that of Lúthien come to walk amongst the elves once more.

Legolas frowned once more. She was not meant to be here. He had hoped that he could avoid any unfortunate meetings with his beloved. She smiled gracefully towards the company and bowed her head in greeting and he lowered his gaze, deliberately looking away from the lady who was his night as he was her day. She was not his yet, she was promised to the son of the Elvenking Thranduil, not Legolas Greenleaf, member of the Fellowship and treasured friend of King Elessar. His night was far away in the future; she belonged to his younger self and he must act accordingly.

"Adlanna, lellig_.__" __My daughter._Elrond greeted his daughter, drawing her to his side with a disapproving frown, as she neglected to greet their guests in favour of taking the orc sword from her father's hands. She dusted the mud from her hands, wiping them on travel-worn clothes.

"What tidings do you bring Adlanna? The Hidden Pass is safe to us for now, but what word is there from the northern scouts?" Elrond's voice was stern; Legolas could not help but smile gravely. Though Rivendell was constantly on watch for orc attacks and other ill tidings there was really no need; Adlanna was one of the very best scouts, although unruly. Often, she would shirk duties in favour of visiting the Hall of Fire, or make it her own personal game to sneak past her father's guards at night. She was a superb archer, better than himself almost, and would be a tremendous leader, if only she was more responsible. Legolas thought to himself, though that was one of the reasons she was so mirthful, to force her to mature would force out all her merriness and leave but a shadow of his beloved behind.

"Legolas! I had not expected to see you here!" She smiled again, a secretive smile, one used only for him, and Legolas knew that trouble was afoot. Legolas frowned in reply, glancing towards Gandalf, only to see the old wizard shaking his head briefly. His eyes flashed a silent warning to the elf prince, and he knew what he must do. He turned away.

"Oho, the elf prince has a lady friend!" Dwalin jeered, earning himself a frown from Aragorn. Legolas sprang forth nimbly and disappeared into the woodland. Blossom trickled through the courtyard, brought by a breeze, swirling around Adlanna's feet as she started after the elven prince. She was held back by a warning glance from her father. Dwalin chuckled again, with mirth, as he watched the drama unfold.

"I wouldn't offend Adlanna, she has keener eyes than anyone I know, and can shoot the wings off of a fly at night." Gimli warned. Dwalin scoffed, and found himself unable to move as his cloak was pinned into the wooden staircase by a well-placed arrow. Adlanna strode past him, with a stern expression. She said nothing, but the bow clenched in her hands said it all.

xxxOOOxxx

Vána awoke to an agonising headache and found that she was tied to a narrow sapling in a wide clearing. The dim light of the fading sun showed that her captors were three lone orcs, who sat glumly in front of a meagre campfire, hacking at a mutilated carcass. Flies buzzed around the clearing and one of the orcs grunted, swatting it away with a gigantic hand.

"Damned flies! Quick cover that bread before it gets all maggoty!"

As the others scrambled to do his will, it became apparent that this squat orc was their fleeting leader. She craned her neck frantically, trying to glean what she could of their surroundings in the rapidly disappearing light. She must escape, and quickly.

The clearing ended abruptly in what could only be a sharp drop down a much sharper rock face, and Vána knew she could not escape that way easily. They were surrounded by huge jagged rocks, which even then seemed to snarl up out of the ground at her. She might find some slight cover there, in the depths of the shadows, but it would not last long. She shuffled around and tried to loosen her bonds, cursing as they sliced into the soft skin of her wrists.

"There's no time to kill her properly; no time for play. What do we do with her? She's a cursed nuisance and we're in a hurry, if what happened to Yazneg is true. I don't fancy becoming warg-meat! We must find the Dwarf-Scum by noon tomorrow!" One of the orcs remarked. He was a skinny, snivelling thing, with a bulbous nose, weaselling about in the dirt after a crust thrown his way.

"Well, the Master don't know we got her, so I reckon we can do what we like to her, and he'll never know."

"The Pale Orc knows everything!" One disagreed, earning him a cuff about the ear.

"No he doesn't, little fool! He isn't a filthy magician!"

Vána froze at the mention of their leader. The huge Gundabad orc was not likely to have destroyed her village yet, but even so, the memory sickened her. The stench of soot and blood and the sounds of screams were echoes that she would never be wholly rid of. She clenched her eyes shut, willing the memories away. She focused her attentions on the orcs, in the hopes that she might overhear more of their ambush plans.

The third orc, softer-spoken, but infinitely more evil remained silent while they ate, and discussed their captive with gleaming eyes. Vána was sickened with worry. Here she was, unarmed, and defenceless while she was ogled by three infinitely pitiless creatures, who found no act too evil.

Indeed, they would not shirk from eating horse-flesh, nor man-flesh, and as Vána correctly guessed, they were not adverse to trying woman-flesh either.

The small orc grinned impishly, testing the sharpness of his mean-looking blade by running it along his tongue menacingly. "She does look tasty…"

The silent orc spoke up, quietly at first, so that Vána couldn't hear all that was being said. He glanced her way, and continued with a wicked grin, and, knowing that she could hear, spoke all the more louder. "I'm not saying that we don't eat her, I'm saying that maybe we should have a little fun beforehand! _Then_, eat her!" She shrank back, her fear growing, and an icy chill ran through her gut as she understood what he was saying. These monsters really were pitiless. There was nothing that they would not do.

"Look, the little fool is awake!" The small orc cackled, approaching with barely disguised glee. He leant closer, sniffing intently as Vána struggled against her bonds. "Oho, lads! She smells good enough to eat too! We're in business!"

The squat orc approached, yanking Vána upright by the hair, ignoring her yelp of pain, as he wrenched at her scalp. "Do not struggle, it will hurt less." He snarled. Vána spat at him and he struck her a vicious backhand across the face, chuckling darkly as her lip split and blood dripped to the floor.

"Oi! Don't keep her to yourself! It's my turn!" The smaller orc said, pushing his way past the others in earnest.

"Wait your turn." He was shoved backwards by the larger orc, shrieking as he stumbled over the campfire and collided with the third, largely silent orc.

"Watch where you're going!" He shouted, drawing his sword.

"You watch where you're going!"

With a ferocious snarl, they leapt at each other across the fire, cursing and kicking up the coals as they met each other stride for stride. A rock dislodged upon the path was kicked up and hit the much larger orc in the head. He turned with a growl, and charged after the two, pushing his way through broken branches and trampled undergrowth in a blind fury.

Vána groaned brokenly, watching the pattern of red blossom its way across her shirt. The dagger still protruded slightly from her gut and her legs began to shake. This was bad, this was very bad. She needed a healer, and she needed one now. If not, she would surely die, alone, out here in the cold woods with no one to comfort her.

The darkness of a dead faint took her and when she awoke, she found an elven lady slicing through her bonds.

"Av-'osto. Odulen an edraith anlen." _Do not be afraid. I am here to save you. _"Im Adlanna, hiril vuin." _I am Adlanna, my Lady. _"Tolo ar nin." _Come with me_. She said, extending a slim, graceful hand to her as she rose uncertainly. The elf returned her sword wordlessly, and indicated her wound. She spoke in the common tongue, "I have bandaged it as well as can be done for the moment, but would not remove the knife for fear of doing more damage. We must get you to Rivendell. Can you ride?"

Vána nodded shakily. She must. The others would be worried.

xxxOOOxxx

"Lord Elrond, I must ask for your help. One of our own, a woman with fiery hair, was captured by orcs and carried away. We must have news of her. Aragorn cares deeply for her, as if she was his own sister. "Gandalf said.

Elrond nodded wordlessly. "Of course, she must be sought for." He turned to Lindir. "Hir _i heryn__._"_ Find the lady._

As Lindir turned and made his way into the halls, Elrond returned his gaze to Gandalf, frowning thoughtfully. "So, explain to me Gandalf, how is it that these people have been brought here against their will?"

"Well," Gandalf began. "As I understand it, Gothmog has been returned from the Halls of Mandos. Heaven knows why. I believe he has taken it upon himself to bring about the end of both Middle Earth as we know it and the existence of the Elves, in revenge for his death by Ecthelion." Gandalf explained quietly. "Our only saving grace is that he is much weaker than before, a mere shadow of his previous strength and I was able to use that to my advantage."

"You fought him?"

"Well, it is all terribly complicated, but Gandalf the White, many years in the future, managed to lessen the potency of his curse, by sending Aragorn and his friends back in the hopes that they can thwart Gothmog before he allows Sauron to regain his full power."

"I see." Elrond sat thoughtfully for a moment. "And you say he was responsible for the deaths of this girl's parents."

Gandalf hummed around his pipe, nodding. "Her father was one of the Istari. Alatar. I don't think you ever met him. But he was a good sort."

Lindir entered the room, bowing low before the elven lord and wise wizard, a look of amused resignation upon his face. "My lord Elrond, the Lady Adlanna is nowhere to be found! Her horse has been taken from the stables. Am I to believe that she has crossed the Rive alone, again?" He said, glancing to the young boy at his side, who was unconcernedly chasing a butterfly along the hall. "And what of Estel? I have brought him to you, as you asked."

"You are to take him to the Elladan and Elrohir. They will keep him safe and out of harm's way. Tell them they are not to cross the Bruínen with him, but are to stay away from the Company until they have left. And Lindir-" He broke off. "Make sure that they do not follow their sister, not with Estel under their protection. She will return, I am sure."

"Aye, my Lord." And with that he was gone.

"I am loath to send the boy away. But as it happens, it is much more dangerous for him to remain here when he might meet himself. I would that he might stay somewhere out of sight, but to lock the child up in a room would only encourage him to go roaming about the household. Once the girl is returned safely, then the Company might be persuaded to move on, but we cannot be sure how long it will take." Elrond turned to Gandalf. "However I would not be surprised if Adlanna returned with your friend, before the night is out."

Gandalf blew a smoke ring. "Yes, I think that would be a wise enough thought."

And so they waited, until the bright afternoon sky faded to the pink and orange glow of dusk. Soon the birdsong died away and evening came, bringing with it the sweet song of a group of Elves out in the gardens. Night quickly fell.

It was not until the early hours of the morning that their uneasy slumbers were disturbed by another messenger.

"The lady Adlanna has returned with the missing girl, but she is badly injured as we suspected. We have sent for healers but they may need your help, my Lord Elrond."

"We must go to her." Gandalf sighed as he stood up. "There is much Vána may do for us yet, and we cannot let her die."

xxxOOOxxx

It was mid-afternoon by the time she woke, stretching blissfully and watching the dappled light dance upon the ceiling above her featherbed. She lay still for a moment, listening to the sound of a waterfall outside the window. She sat up, resting her head on downy pillows, and watched Gandalf solemnly as he blew smoke-rings out of the window. She gingerly felt her side. The wound was gone and not even a scar remained. Lord Elrond was a truly a remarkable healer.

"What happened? Where is Aragorn? Are the others alright?"

"They are all safe and sound, despite the absurd scare you gave them all! Aragorn has not left your side all day, despite his anger. I sent him away about an hour ago, to talk some sense into Bilbo. The poor fellow is quite beside himself. He has not spoken a word since you were returned."

She threw back the covers in a hurry. "I must go to him. He must not look so unhappy or Thorin will send him home for sure."

"You will do no such thing." cried Gandalf. "By Lord Elrond's orders, you are not to move from this bed until tomorrow morning. And I intend to follow those orders. There is nothing quite as fearful as an Elf-lord in all his wrath. You will remain here, and I will bring Bilbo to you. I think it would be quite alright for you to have a brief talk with him, before having another sleep."

She sat quietly in bed, leafing through a book left beside the bed, impatiently awaiting her hobbit friend. The door slipped open silently, and the quiet patter of feet signalled his arrival, as he approached nervously. She put the book down, uninterested, and smiled softly down at Bilbo.

"How are you feeling, little master?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?" He answered shyly, shuffling his feet together bashfully. "You were gravely wounded, don't forget." He added bitterly. "No thanks to me."

"Don't say that, Bilbo. This was not your fault!"

"It was entirely my fault that you were taken. If I had kept up with the group, then we would have had more time. You would have had more time."

"Bilbo, I alone am responsible for what happened to me. I made an ill-timed choice and for that I have paid the price. We cannot change what happened."

"But you were tended for days. Surely, you must blame me!" Vána shook her head and chuckled lightly. "Oh Bilbo, I do not place blame lightly. And if I was to do so-" She whispered. "I risked my life to safe that of Thorin Oakenshield. Do you not think I would blame him more than you?" Bilbo smiled suddenly and she continued. "Besides, I've been through much worse than this, and with no elven healers to patch me up! Worry not, my friend. Though I can see that you are still troubled. Come, speak your mind and I will help you, if I can."

"Thorin was right. I am no use to the others. I cannot fight and I hold you back. I don't belong here."

Vána frowned in response and leant forward to clasp his hand. "Let me tell you something. The most important person in our entire future is a bunch of hobbits. You are without a doubt, the bravest, pluckiest, most loyal people I have ever come across. Do not doubt yourself."

xxxOOOxxx

Elrond entered her room silently, watching as his daughter sat upon the veranda, painting a wildflower, with long, delicate strokes of the fine brush in her hand. She sat with her back to him, stiffened even now, with her anger. She placed the brush down and sighed, but made no move to face him. He knew she heard him, and placed a hand on her shoulder, frowning.

"Why do you sit alone, lellig? Do you not wish to join us for the feast?"

"Not with that dull-witted tree-dweller! Who does he think he is? He cares for me no longer! I shame to think that once I held him in esteem. If he deems himself too proud to speak freely with me, then I wash my hands of him, prince or no!"

"Be silent, insolent girl! The Legolas you care for still resides in the Greenwood. This is another one entirely. He comes from another Age, many years ahead of us! Show him the respect he deserves."

"What do you mean?"

"Gothmog has returned and cast them from their rightful place in Gondor, many years from now. They rely on me to find a way to return them."

"Impossible." She breathed, eyes alit with wonder. "How can it be so?"

"A dark shadow cast across the land grows close. The nights grow cold and I fear for the safety of the boy. He cannot stay here while Elessar and his friends remain."

"We might send Estel to Lothlórien for the time being, but it is a long ride with many perils along the way. It would be dangerous. What would you have me do, ada?"

"Go to your brothers. They would be glad of your help. The White Council has been called together. I will speak with Lady Galadriel and see what remains to be done."

Elrond nodded briefly, then left her with her thoughts. She dallied only a while, before following. Her brothers would look to her coming from the East, but perhaps, if she came from the West she might surprise them. That would put a smile on Estel's face, for certain.


	7. Chapter 6: Future Days

**Thank you to Fellowship of Avengers, Cattra1992 and echoi5004 for the reviews! I will answer any questions you have so either pm me or put it in the review! Also any suggestions please feel free to ask for anything**

xxxOOOxxx

As they broke their morning fast on bread and honey, and plates of fresh fruit, Gandalf pondered their predicament whilst watching the dwarves complain to each other, over such a sparse meal. They had apparently looked forward to a good breakfast, like the one promised them by Bilbo, hearty and full of sausages and eggs, and even a rasher or three of bacon, but again, found themselves disappointed.

Gandalf said nothing about Vána, ignoring the plaintive cries of Ori and the two dwarf princes as they took turns pestering him for answers.

"But Gandalf! How are we to continue with our quest if one of the members of our company remains ill and bedridden? Thorin must know how she is!" Fili protested.

"She's dead isn't she?" Ori asked, eyes welling up with a shocked realisation. "That's why we cannot see her!"

Gandalf looked to Elrond, who was barely concealing an amused smile, and sighed mock-peevishly. "Master Dwarves, your friend is quite alright, but must rest before having any visitors. You are not to go and pester her. You will be allowed to see her, when and only when, she so chooses to see you."

The dwarves sat quietly, finishing their breakfast with barely disguised frowns of discontent, for the most part ignoring Bilbo, who looked sorely out of place and alone now that Aragorn and Legolas had excused themselves and left the high dais where they were served.

Later, an elven messenger garbed in green had approached with a bow and announced to Lord Elrond that they had left Rivendell in order to be alone with their thoughts. Elrond had frowned thoughtfully and dismissed the elf, despite the all too clear worry that they might run into Adlanna and her brothers, not to mention the boy, Estel. The two were much less at ease, even though Vána had been returned safely and mostly unharmed, if their frowns directed towards Thorin were anything to go by. No, it was much safer in the long run if they were to stay away for now; it would not be wise for them to come to blows so early on in the journey.

xxxOOOxxx

Now they were alone, Elrond turned to Gandalf and continued their conversation in a hushed voice. "You say Gothmog is but a shadow of his former power? How so?"

"I know not how, but suspect that a darker magic is at force here. I cannot expect that the Valar willingly sent him back. What good could he possibly bring to this world? There is talk of a necromancer at Dol Guldur. Perhaps he has reincarnated the Balrog Captain himself, in preparation for Sauron's return? Do not forget that he was never properly vanquished, if Aragorn and Vána's story is anything to go by."

"Mithrandir, you speak as if Gothmog's return is a forerunner to Sauron's rising! He possesses but a shade of that power."

"Doubtless, I agree my friend, but I imagine that the Dark Lord will require a Lieutenant when he emerges from the tower."

Lord Elrond's stern expression changed, flickering to one of confusion and worry. "It is likely, though I can find no reason why he would be returned in such a weak form, for surely he will be no use to Sauron with such a lack of power."

"Perhaps the spell went wrong? His earthly shape is nothing more than that of a smoke clouded man, nothing remotely similar to that of a Balrog. My only hope is that he does not regain his power, through other evil-doings." Gandalf shrugged and looked earnestly upon the mountain view, considering the whys and wherefores' of Gothmog's return.

"And how is that he came to slay Alatar?"

"It is possible that Alatar came across him and knew of his plans. Perhaps he has disrupted Gothmog and prevented him from completing them? I cannot say for sure."

"I see." Elrond said thoughtfully with a frown upon his face. "It is fortunate that the White Council meets here today. We shall soon see what Saruman has to say on the matter."

Gandalf nodded grimly. "Indeed." He answered. Saruman would certainly have strong feelings about his wrong-doings, whether ill or no, they would have to wait and see for the time being.

"And what of the girl? Could Gothmog be searching for her, or is he unaware that she has entered the valley?"

"I hope for her sake he does not know of her, but Gothmog ever was cunning and will have spies hidden all over Middle Earth. I do not know if he knows of her yet, but we can hope."

They were interrupted by a loud shout echoing across the courtyard.

"Ho! Have you left me any breakfast, you young scallywags?"

Limping down the stairwell, looking tired but well, with rosy cheeks and a graceful smile, was Vána. Within seconds the dwarves had pushed themselves back from the table with a roar of surprise, and swept across the courtyard to her. Finding herself trapped in a great bear hug by her new friends, Vána laughed aloud and ruffled the hair of Kili, looking up to meet the eyes of Thorin. He made no move to rise from the table, but nodded just once and painfully slowly towards her. He drank gracefully from his goblet, wiping his faint smile away and replacing it with his normal scowl.

xxxOOOxxx

"We thought you were a goner, for sure!" Bofur cried, enveloping Vána in a bone-crunching hug. His smiles and laughter were genuine and for that Vána was grateful, though his embrace racked her with pain.

"Bofur, perhaps handle Vána a touch more carefully." Balin chided with a chuckle, wringing Vána's hand with a warm smile.

Vána shrugged off his apologies and settled herself upon the wooden bench with ease. There was still much food left on the tables, and Vána fell to with gusto, piling her plate high with curious-looking fruits, crusty breads and mellow cheeses.

As she struggled to tear open a particularly tough loaf, a gruff voice interrupted their largely silent breakfast. "Fili, Kili, lend Vána your dagger."

She looked up in astonishment, speechless as Thorin continued draining his goblet in silence, before stalking away from the table and returning to his rooms in Elrond's halls.

"How is it that she gets special treatment?" Kili teased good-naturedly, nevertheless handing over his newly sharpened knife with little complaint

"Because she is a lady, fool." Fili chastised his brother. "And because Thorin said so!"

A shadow fell across her plate and she spoke without even looking up. "Hullo Gimli! I suppose you've come to tell me I did a damned fool thing and that I should be glad that I didn't pay with my life?"

"I've come to tell you that you must speak with Aragorn, lass, before I clunk both your heads together like a pair of stubborn dwarflings!" Gimli answered crossly. "You damned Northmen are all the same! Stubborn as an ox and angrier than a bear stung by bees!"

"How angry was he? Truly?"

"Full up with a fury unmatched by any. I thought he would slay Thorin where he stood!"

She got to her feet wearily. "Then I should go to him. Where did he go?"

She was met with silence. None of the dwarves seemed to even have noticed that Aragorn and his green clad elf-friend had slunk off during breakfast. Bilbo half-raised his hand in answer, but seemed intimidated by the dwarves silence and replaced it under the table.

Finally Ori spoke up. "I saw them ride out over the river. They went West!"

"Then I will need a horse." She murmured to herself, already striding out across the courtyard alone.

"Be wary, Vána! Aragorn is still in a quarrelling mood! He will pick a fight over naught if you are not careful!" Gimli warned in a low voice as she stalked away.

xxxOOOxxx

They sat alone in a grassy vale not far from Rivendell, comfortably silent as Legolas polished the slender wood of the fine bow gifted to him by the Lady Galadriel. Aragorn smoked quietly, back against a rock and with his hood up against the elements. His dark eyes smouldered from behind the wall of smoke and he nodded appreciatively as Legolas tested the straightness of an arrow. In one fluid motion, he had unstrung his bow and nocked the arrow, aiming at something unseen down in the valley.

"Something's coming!" He cried aloud.

Aragorn got to his feet quickly, stowing away his pipe and unsheathing his sword warily. "What do you see?" He murmured, as he came closer.

"He sees me!" Vána smiled, as she weaved between the trees and scrambled up a steep bank to reach them. She was panting heavily; though Lord Elrond had healed her almost entirely, she was still weary.

"You are lucky to be here." Aragorn said. "Elrond tended you throughout the night. I am glad though."

"You are not angry?"

He shook his head. "There was little you could do to fight them off. Though I worry-" He broke off, paused and continued. "You know the outcome of this Quest, do not let your fondness for the company allow you to make rash decisions and put yourself in danger. That was why I was angry. You risked your life for someone destined to die."

She nodded thoughtfully; she had almost allowed herself to forget that.

Legolas unsheathed his long knife from his quiver and smiled down at the pair. "And now the Dúnadan has promised me to try and best me, though it is true that he will not succeed."

"Is that so?" Aragorn smiled wickedly, crouching beside Vána, before swinging his sword around in a wide arc. Vána jumped. He had moved so quickly that she hadn't even noticed him drawing his sword. Legolas surely would have been beaten, had he not jumped sideways with all the catlike grace of the elves. He whirled to meet him, sparks flying when sword and knife met, and Vána screamed aloud as they clashed. Suddenly, their fight seemed much less fun and she was reminded of the furious snarling of the orcs last night.

She scrambled backwards, away from the fight, fingers outstretched, grasping for a weapon, a rock, anything.

She was frightened.

Almost as quickly as their fight started, it was done, with Legolas's knife pointed at Aragorn's throat. They were smiling, and Legolas helped his friend to his feet. "Almost." He said with a laugh, before his expression clouded briefly.

"What is the matter with Vána?"

She breathed outwards heavily, still shaking, and answered in a quiet, downcast voice. "The fighting. It brought back the memories."

Aragorn frowned sympathetically and sat next to her, grasping her hand with calloused fingers. "Memories of the Pale Orc or of the others and your captivity?" He asked quietly.

"They were of last night." She nodded sadly.

"You may feel fear sometimes, Vána, it is only natural. Do not punish yourself for it, as I know you will do."

"But you taught me to strong in the face of battle. This is not strength. This is cowardice."

"You cannot be strong without being able to mourn, be fearful or love another person. It teaches you humility, patience and mercy. You cannot learn them without controlling your emotions first." Aragorn countered quickly, laying a hand upon her shoulder. She melted into his touch, comforted by his words.

They were interrupted by the silent approach of an elf, through the trees. He was clad in the grey of Elrond's people, and he wore a silver girdle in the shape of intertwined leaves. He came quietly, as was the way of the Elves, so as not to disturb the birds, and animals they held in such high esteem.

"Mae Govannen, Legolas." He said, bowing low before the elven prince. He continued, speaking in the common tongue. "Lord Elrond will see you now." Legolas nodded in answer, and clasped his hand to Vána's shoulder in a silent farewell, before walking away through the trees, blossom trailing behind him, as if the trees themselves were bowing in reverence.

xxxOOOxxx

"Mae Govannen." Legolas said by way of a greeting, bowing in front of Lord Elrond, whose face remained, even then, as impassive as the harsh mountain face. "I hear you wish to speak with me."

Elrond turned and paced the room, examining the shattered sword upon the stone plinth. "It is about Adlanna."

They remained in silence for a moment, and Legolas turned to examine a tapestry of Beren and Lúthien together. Elrond finally sighed, turned to face the elven prince. "There are dark times approaching, and I believe Adlanna now understands the peril we all face. Even more so, now that Gothmog is returning and amassing an army and growing in power. The difficulties that have arisen with your curse are worrying to say the least. I would that you would talk with her, make her understand why you cannot linger here with her."

"I do not believe that is wise. She is precious to me, and I would not cause her any pain."

"She is hurting, Legolas. The two of you have been increasingly difficult to keep apart. Do you really believe that she will stay away for much longer? I fear that she will follow you East, and that is something that I cannot allow."

"I had not thought to consider that you might disapprove."

"I do not. A betrothal between the Last Homely House and the Greenwood Forest would strengthen both of our borders greatly. Thranduil and I both agree upon this, now that darker forces have begun to stir. We can become great allies."

"You give us your blessing?" Legolas asked incredulously, feeling a surge of joy, as Elrond smiled and nodded.

"I give it willingly." He replied. "You are a fine match for someone as wilful as Adlanna. I only hope that you might stop her from being so reckless. At times she can be as wise and giving as her sister, but that wild carelessness must be quashed before she is to become a queen amongst elves. If only her mother had not suffered such torment in the orc-caves, I feel that she might have had a calmer youth, though that time has now passed, I fear."

"She was raised excellently, Lord Elrond. Nothing you could have done, nor said, would have quelled her fire. Celebrían suffered much at the hands of the orc-filth, and Adlanna would have torn down the mountains themselves if it could have but returned her mother's mind. Given time, she will become less reckless on her own. May the Valar bless her and make it so."

xxxOOOxxx

She floated along the hallway, graceful as a swan, silver cloak swirling behind her as she walked barefoot, without a care. A shout rang out behind her, and she turned to face Legolas, eyes downcast and a frown darkening her expression.

She would not meet his eyes, determinedly staring at the floor, as she shuffled her bare feet together, embarrassed. "I am sorry," She said. "But this curse is most queer and I cannot seem to stay away. I have put you in an awkward position. Please forgive me."

"The fault is all mine." He said quietly, saddened by Adlanna's upset. "I should have stayed away too."

"But you are not the same Legolas that I care for. I do not even know if you still care for me!" Her voice finally cracked with the realisation that Legolas might no longer love her. She would rather fight a thousand orcs alone than for him to forsake her. She would be alone for the rest of her days. No one else would want her; not even Glorfindel, one of the Mighty of the Firstborn, would stand her recklessness.

"Do not worry Adlanna. Nothing will change, you can be sure of that."

"We will remain together?" Her face lit up with hope, and her expression was so full of joy that Legolas could not help but smile at her.

"Of course. Until the end of the time of Elves."

xxxOOOxxx

Most of the Company had joined Aragorn and Legolas outside, tempted by the promise of a good hunt and a proper roast outside the boundaries of Rivendell, Thorin and Balin had retired to the warmth of Elrond's magnificent library for some peace and quiet, hoping to find some scriptures on Ancient Dwarvish, which might serve to educate the younger dwarves a little more, on the life they had sorely missed since Erebor had been sacked. Dwalin had followed, grumbling discontentedly about the smug look on Legolas's face, as the others had followed him out of the city, placing seemingly blind trust in the elf.

Later, they were joined by Gimli and Glóin, who settled down near the fire to have a well-earned talk around a mug of good beer.

"Tell me of your life." Glóin asked. "I see you are good with an axe, I hope it has served you well. How did you come to be called Elf-friend?"

"I am only good with an axe, because you taught me everything you know." Gimli replied, watching as his father's fond smile grew into a proud grin.

"Oh I wouldn't say that!" Vána drawled lazily, laughing aloud sharply when Gimli and Glóin jumped with surprise. She lounged on the floor, tossing a knife thoughtfully in the air, as the two returned to their soft discussion. "I did teach you one or two things, myself!"

"And what of the elf?"

"We travelled together." Gimli replied thoughtfully. "And as with most quests, we were beset by much danger. There is nothing like a good fight to bring out a bond between two fine warriors."

"Not to mention-" Vána interrupted. "The Lady Galadriel beseeched Legolas to forgo his anger with the dwarves of Nogrod. I think she reminded him that both the dwarves and the elves yearn for their ancient homes."

"You have met with the elf-witch?" Glóin exclaimed, aghast. Thorin and the others looked up, their curiosity peaked by their talk of the Lady of the Wood.

"No, father. She is no elf-witch." Gimli disagreed, reaching beneath his mail to retrieve a thin gold chain tucked away safely. Upon one end was fixed an imperishable crystal, and fixed within that crystal lay three perfectly golden hairs. "An heirloom of my house." He said, by way of an answer to the others questioning looks. "Given, most generously by the Lady Galadriel, to be treasured as a memory of her gentle words. I made a vow, never to call another thing fair, lest it be that of her golden tresses, or kind face. I remain true to that vow, even now."

As the others looked upon Gimli in awe, admiring the craftsmanship of the crystal, their murmurs of disbelief were interrupted by a sudden cry of pain.

"Oh hell-fire!" Vána cursed, allowing her bloodied knife to drop to the floor with a clang. She gripped her bloody hand, and cursed again. "A foolish thing to do, looking away from a falling knife! I must find Gandalf, do you know where he has gotten to?"

"Having tea with Lord Elrond, the last I saw of him. Not to be disturbed, apparently." Balin offered, as they left the room. "I wonder if the others have caught anything yet? I am feeling rather peckish."

"Here, let me help." Thorin said in a low voice, steering her away into an empty room. The wound was shallow, but bleeding quickly and Vána stumbled across the threshold, already feeling dizzy and lightheaded. She ignored Thorin's firm hand upon her wrist, keeping her on her feet, and focussed on staying upright herself.

"How did you know to come here?" Vána asked stupidly, rolling her tongue around her mouth as she tried to force the words out. Her mouth felt numb, and thick, and she struggled. Thorin looked at her, unamused. She tried again.

"Gandalf insisted I visited to make sure that Lord Elrond had healed you properly."

"Why couldn't he just do it himself?"

"Gandalf is a wizard. One of the Maiar. He does not do your bidding. Just because you are a woman doesn't mean you will be cared for above anyone else!" Thorin sneered. There was a moment's silence, and Thorin had just enough time to realise he had spoken out of turn before Vána slapped him.

"How dare you." She said coolly. "I risked my life for you, and the only thanks you gave me was a poorly disguised insult. Just because I am a woman does not mean I am weaker than you. I can fight, unlike Bilbo, so stop treating me like him."

Vána stormed onto the balcony, leaving Thorin to rub absentmindedly at the burning red mark left upon his cheek. He followed her outside, watching as falling leaves cascadedaround Vána's silhouette, twisting and turning with the breeze.

"I am sorry." He said. "You have never asked for us to treat you differently, I have been rude. Forgive me."

When she turned to face him, he spoke again, haltingly. "Will you let me tend your wounds now?"

She nodded, silently watching as he fetched a bowl of water and a cloth to clean the wound. Thorin diligently washed her hand, watching with admiration as she bit her lip to keep from making a sound. The cut was not deep, but it was sure to hurt.

"Why are you doing this?" Vána finally broke the silence, uncertainly. "Tending my wounds? I thought you hated me."

"You saved my life." Thorin replied. "I would bring dishonour on my family if I did not repay your debt."

"So I am little more than a debt to be repaid?"

"Why will you not allow people to help you when you are hurt?"

"I do! I allowed Lord Elrond to heal my wounds last night. But for such a foolish injury, I would rather live with the pain and tend myself so that I might learn from my mistakes. See this scar?" She said, pointing to her hand, where a jagged scar curved around her thumb. "I got that from trying to break up a bar fight with a wooden chair. I left the splinter in for a week before taking it out, so that I would learn not to do it again. Aragorn remains sure that I would have lost my hand if my blood became poisoned, but I am not so sure. But I learnt."

"No-one will think any less of you if you are wounded, it often happens. This mark here? Came from Kili's first bow. I made the mistake of giving it to him before he was ready. The fool shot me in the back. Dwalin often recounts that tale with glee."

She looked down at Thorin thoughtfully, watching as his eyes lit up with joy at the fond memory, then almost immediately hardened into his normal scowl. "It is when you are reckless, or endanger my people, that you will be made to feel weak. You would do well to learn from every mistake you make."

Vána scowled back. He might do well to learn that his rudeness was no way to thank her for saving his life. Maybe it was a mistake to save him. Well, she could certainly learn from that one.

She opened her mouth, a witty retort sharp on the edge of her tongue, when the door opened cautiously. An elvish hand-maiden entered the room, bowed and said "Lord Elrond wishes to see you both in the Hall of Fire."

Thorin stalked away without a second's notice, leaving Vána to make her own way there and to ignore the constant throbbing of her hand.


End file.
